Not So Sweet Revenge
by MoriartyOwesYouAFall
Summary: Moriarty's back and he's coming after his old enemy. But when Moriarty threatens to reveal one of Sherlock's darkest secrets, the situation quickly turns dire, using this new information as blackmail, Moriarty uses Sherlock to get hold of the biggest nuclear weapons systems in history. Can Sherlock destroy Moriarty once and for all or will Moriarty get his 'Not So Sweet Revenge?
1. The Reunion and The Secret

**Hey! This is a new fanfiction I'm writing! This is featured in the 'Absolute Wholock: Fan Creations' Which I am a part of! CHECK US OUT! **

**Anyway, There are no pairings in this one. Minor drug references and all around feels in general. **

**ENJOY!**

* * *

_"Did you miss me?"_

The words echoed around Sherlock's head. After his plane had touched back down on English soil, he'd seen for himself the extent to the problem England was now faced with. Driving through London back to 221B, his face was everywhere. Once back at the flat, Mycroft, John, Sherlock, Mary and Molly had all gathered in the living room. After a few tense moments Greg walked in; he threw his phone down, his brown leather coat waving behind him.

"That was the Yard. Apparently he's got America, Russia and Africa wrapped up in all of this."

"How could he have got to so many people in so little time?" John was confused as he threw his coat over the back of the chair.

"You seem to be forgetting that he has had two years. While Sherlock was in Serbia, Jim must have been planning, I mean _two years, _that's more than enough time to get something like this together."

"That's another thing; just how could he be back. He blew his own brains out. We found the body! Sherlock _saw him do it._" John paused. "Sherlock?"

The detective was facing the window with his back to the others. Mrs. Hudson turned the television off but out in the street people were panicking. _Common people._ People who didn't deal with this sort of thing on a regular basis. His fingers were intertwined and he rested his lips on his knuckles and his elbows on his knees. He was quiet. John didn't like it when Sherlock went quiet. His grey eyes were fixed on outside, bad things usually followed He was looking but he wasn't _seeing_ things the way they were anymore. He'd underestimated Jim Moriarty. Everyone had. Just like Sherlock, Jim must have had plans of getting off that building alive. Sherlock had already made several theories on how Jim could possibly have done it. Fake gun, blood pack that burst on impact with the ground and the same 'ball-under-the-arm' trick to stop the pulse.

"He's going to be coming after you, Sherlock. You're possibly the reason he's back." Sherlock's eyes tilted slightly and he turned around his chair to look at everyone.

"That is most likely. And no doubt he will try and make contact with me. I don't want _any_ of you present when he does."

John opened his mouth to protest but a phone stopped him in his tracks. Sherlock looked at it for a while before his tore his eyes away.

"It keeps doing that." He stated dismissively.

"Ever thought of answering it?" Molly rolled her eyes and answered the phone.

"Hello, Sherlock's phone... Yes, he's here. Who is this?" Molly paled and Sherlock could hear another voice on the other end. It was deep and harsh. She tried to swallow down a lump in her throat. She handed the phone over to Sherlock with shaky hands. "It's him."

Sherlock licked his dry lips and lifted the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

_"Oh hello, pet. How nice to finally hear your voice again. How is everyone?"_

"What do you want?" His tone was low, threatening and was the tone of someone you didn't want to mess with.

_"Small talk over already? No matter, meet me at the pier in ten minutes and then we'll talk."_

It wasn't a question, it wasn't even a statement. It was a order. A direct order, at that. But still Sherlock questioned.

"Why should I?"

_"Because you're curious! You want to know how I did it. And let's just say I know something that you've been trying to keep under wraps for a while now."_

"How could you possibly..." Sherlock tried to make his voice steady but he was failing. The others just looked at each other, confused. "Never mind. I'll be there."

_"And you'd better be alone or I may be tempted to spill there and then."_

"I will be." And with that he hung up. "He's asked me to meet him."

"Then we'll come with you." Said Mary confidently and the others nodded.

"No," Sherlock was shaking his head. "He demanded I be alone. And that's just what I'll be." He got up and shrugged on his long black coat and navy scarf. "I'll be back. I'll call when I'm on my way home." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

_10 minutes later_

"Quite a secret you're trying to keep isn't it?" The all-too-familiar voice of Jim Moriarty rang around the pier. The only other sounds that Sherlock could hear were the sea and his own heartbeat ringing in his ears.

"I mean, you've kept secrets before but _this_. John would never trust you again."

Sherlock said nothing. He stood there, a figure of light against the darkness around him. Jim was wearing a navy blue suit with a swan tie pin. He was stood at the end of the pier with the water crashing around him.

"Been a while hasn't it. Just the two of us again. It's been fun hasn't it? Me and you quarrelling and the world feeling the aftershocks. It's like a kind of love isn't it? That kind where we depend on the other."

"I do not depend on you." Sherlock spat.

"Don't you? Without James Moriarty there is no Sherlock Holmes. It's the strawberries and cream. They go together. You never get one without the other and you have been busy haven't you? Saving the world in your own little way. What is it that you seek exactly? Forgiveness? Redemption for the things that you've done because I doubt you'll get that."

"What do you want Moriarty?"

"Your help. Assistance in a way. I need to get into the government computers and give me a copy of every file they have on 'Operation: Blood Diamond."

Sherlock slowly lifted up his head to meet Jim's cold, dead eyes.

"Ah, you know it. I knew you would." The words came slowly still wrapped in that thick Irish drawl. And he was always smiling. That was something that bothered Sherlock. He was _always smiling. _He was smiling when he's 'died' up on the roof of Bart's.

"That's an international scale operation. It belongs to the government." Sherlock realized. He'd heard of 'Operation: Blood Diamond'. It was an operation that could control the nuclear weapons that Great Britain had at its disposal. No-one else knew that there were any other countries that had the weapons other than America and Russia. Mycroft had talked about it often enough. How secure it was. How foolproof it was. He was practically _inviting_ Sherlock to steal it. The program existed on Mycroft's laptop and his only. And that laptop was by his side always. He could pull the same trick he did at his parents' Christmas dinner and drug the man but it was unlikely that he'd be able to pull off the same trick twice.

"And your big brother practically _is_ the government. Isn't that what you always say? That's why _I_ can't go anywhere near it. But you? You can stroll right in, hack into your brother's laptop and download a copy instantly!"

"Then why not ask Mycroft?"

"Because I have information that will make you stay with me. This dirty, _dirty_ little secret of yours is something you don't want spilling, is it?"

"How am I even sure that you know."

"How about I prove it? I tell you what it is I know."

"Be my guest."

"Mary Watson's baby...is yours."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Hmm, little things, I guess. I'm disappointed in you. You're better than that, having an affair with your best friend's _wife?_ I'm guessing, as you're still alive, that John doesn't know? How long has this little fling been happening then? Are you just going to let John raise a daughter he believes to be his?" Jim stopped then and shrugged. He didn't say anymore after that. He just looked straight into Sherlock's grey eyes, almost challenging him to answer. To protest. To argue. But he couldn't. Because it was true.

It was a few months before the wedding; Sherlock had met up with Mary to discuss the music for her and John's first dance and the two of them had ended up in the bedroom somehow. It had all been a bit of a blur and in Sherlock's defence it was _Mary_ who's first come onto Sherlock. It was her who drew her red fingernails along his shirt and undone his belt. He should have pushed her away, told her no that it was wrong to do this to John but he supposed none of that mattered now. Mary was pregnant and the baby was his. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The situation had been made even worse because now Jim knew. It was very similar to Lady Smallwood's situation with Charles Magnusson, using another's person weaknesses for your own benefit.

While Sherlock was debating with himself and trying to address his current situation, another person had appeared on the pier. Sebastian Moran. He'd been imprisoned last time Sherlock had heard of him. His brown hair was combed backwards and the scar on his face glistened in the moonlight. Jim had his hands in his pockets and he started to walk towards Sherlock.

"You in? Of course, you know what'll happen if you're not. So you don't _really_ have a choice?"

He smiled again and nodded to Sebastian. A sharp instrument pierced the side of his neck and instantly Sherlock fought back. He spun around desperately but the drug was already starting to take affect. He stumbled into Sebastian and already his limbs were starting to fail. His eyes closed and he passed out.

"Perfect. Come on then, let's get back."

Sebastian picked up Sherlock in his arms and carried him to the car that was waiting by the entrance. He threw him into the backseat, only to be scolded by Jim.

"Be careful, will you! Don't want to break him, not while he's still useful." Jim got into the car and Sebastian slipped into the driver's seat. He looked at Jim, waiting for orders.

"Home."

* * *

_Back at the flat._

"He's been gone too long. He should be back by now."

John was pacing around the flat nervously. Sherlock had been gone for almost three hours now, it was getting dark and there had been no phone call to say he was on his way home.

"John, he's probably forgotten to call. You know what he's like, why don't you call him to ease your mind."

But John shook his head.

"We can't risk calling him, not if he's with him."

Greg nodded.

"John's right, even if he was in trouble, calling him or trying to find him would probably only make things worse. We've just got to hold out and hope that he calls soon. If he's not back by morning then we go looking for him."

"And until then..." Mrs. Hudson came walking back into the living room. She'd been pottering around ever since they all came home; trying to get her mind off everything going on. "You are all welcome to stay here until Sherlock returns, although I like the fact that I now have kitchen space..."

John glared at her and Mrs. Hudson put her hands in the air, laughing.

"Only trying to lighten the mood young man!" She sighed. "He'll turn up, he always does."

"I know, anyway, it's getting late and if it's alright with you Mrs. Hudson, I think we should all grab some sleep."

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "Greg, Molly and Mike,"

"Mycroft." Mycroft cut in. He _hated_ being called Mike and Mrs. Hudson knew it. She giggled and waved her hand,

"Come with me."

The four of them left to room, leaving John and Mary alone.

"Come on, we should grab some sleep." Mary tugged gently on John's shirt. He pulled out of her grip and turned away towards the window.

"I'm waiting; I'm not going to be able to sleep knowing he's still out there."

Mary rubbed his shoulder and let him be. Sherlock meant a lot to him; He'd brought him out of the dark when John had been traumatized, broken and sore and back into the light. John admired him, respected him and loved him, the two of them were as close as anyone and John was possibly the only one Sherlock would confide in but even then Sherlock would still keep things to himself. The odd little thing. They had their fights and that's what families did. They fought but they still loved each other deep down. The way they did things together was unique and no-one could challenge that. Sherlock understood the most complicated things but had no idea about human nature. John however knew about human nature but for some reason couldn't understand Sherlock. In all fairness, nobody could. He was special, an enigma. A creature to be admired, respected and preserved. And when you live with such a person, you need to observe their habits. Coming back late, for Sherlock, wasn't exactly rare.

John sat down in his chair and pulled a blanket over him, looking at the door.

_He'll be fine. _John thought positively. _He'll walk through that door, perfectly fine, and continue with life like nothing ever happened...hopefully._

* * *

_**Thanks for reading c: **_

_**Love you all!**_

_**R + R PEOPLE.**_


	2. The Mission and The Drugs

**Chapter TWO! **

**A TINY BIT OF SHERLOCK/MARY AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER. **

**ENJOY.**

* * *

Sherlock awoke in a small room, quite a way up. There were wine coloured curtains around the windows that matched the bedclothes and he was lain out on the bed on top of the covers. As his grogginess retreated, he started to remember what had happened earlier that night. He'd gone to meet Moriarty, something was said then he was drugged, captured and brought back to wherever it was he was currently. A tiny ticking noise filled the silent room. It came from a small rounded clock, mounted on the opposite wall. The time read 22:31 PM. That woke Sherlock up properly; John would be worried sick by now. He needed to get back quickly to the flat and soon. He rolled off of the bed but the drug was still present in his system and he quickly fell to the floor.

"_How nice, you're awake! Listen Sherlock; come to my office on the top floor and we'll explain everything. If you don't Sebby will track you down and show no mercy. See you soon, Honey!"_

The smooth-spoken criminal's voice echoed through his room. His fingers grazed his neck where Sebastian had injected him; the wound was red, raised and oozing blood every now and again. He lay on the floor for a few more minutes before climbing to his feet and groping his way to the door. The latch opened with a soft click and the door swung open to reveal a vast corridor, the entire layout of the facility was not that different from his brother's own house. His footsteps echoed on the oaken floor through the silent building. He reached the stairs none too soon, and wrapped his hand around the carved snake banister. Sherlock rose his aching feet and was soon halfway up the stairs. When he reached the top, his legs threatened to give out and send him plummeting to the bottom again but they held out. It was a maze of twisting corridors, staircases and rooms before he made it to, what he assumed, was Jim's office. He stopped outside the heavy door, raised his hand and knocked. Sherlock had no idea _why_ he was acting so submissively around Jim but for some unknown reason, he didn't want to disobey him.

When the door opened, he found Jim sat behind a mahogany desk and the far wall was made of glass, looking over night-life London. Two, heavy and expensive bookcases stood by the far wall. Jim wore a grey suit this time; he must have changed it when he returned from the pier. He turned around and waved his hand at the chair that sat in front of the desk. Without being asked to, his feet started moving. He lowered himself into the chair and Jim did the same. There was a file sat on the desk and Jim was smiling that obnoxious smile again.

"So, time to discuss business. Operation: Blood Diamond. What do you already know of it?"

"I know it's a government controlled system that was entrusted to my brother when I was no older than 17. I know that it controls the nuclear weapons that Britain has to protect itself with, in the event of war, but that is it."

"Hmm, seems like you already know a fair bit. Anyway, I need it."

"Why?" It seemed like an obvious question. Too obvious. If Jim wanted the file, he'd have it. Why the hell did Jim need Sherlock?

"Bragging rights. Blackmail. Entertainment. The pros far outweigh the cons, Mr Holmes. Anyway, what I'd do with it isn't part of our deal. The deal is that you get me a copy of the files on 'Operation: Blood Diamond' or your little secret gets spilt into the media, all over the world."

Jim leaned back into his chair and smiled again. It was the smile someone did when they knew a secret that they knew their friend was going to _love_. Sherlock had to make a decision. Either he gave away critical government secrets or he lost the people he loved most in this world. He didn't like the sound of either. Even so...

"Fine, I'll do it. I'd rather not, but I don't really have a choice." Sherlock leaned back in his chair, utterly defeated. Jim had won. There was no way Sherlock could double cross him because that would make the situation twice as worse. He'd be caught stealing government secrets _and_ John would find out about him and Mary. There seemed to be no way out of this. His head hung and Jim clapped his hands gleefully.

"Excellent! Well be off with you, I have work to do." Sherlock got to his feet and made his way to the door. "Oh and honey,"

Sherlock turned.

"Don't look so glum. The life of a criminal is quite a good one. That's if you don't get caught, that is." He winked and half-smiled charmingly. Sherlock walked out of the door, leaving Jim and that bloody smile behind. He remembered his path through the winding corridors and back to his room. He found his coat, scarf and phone on the bed waiting for him. Jim must have contacted Sebastian just after he'd left. He put on his scarf and coat and checked his phone. Three missed calls and six texts; All from John. He pocketed his phone and walked out of the room, contemplating his situation. He'd have to go back to the flat and begin planning how the hell he was going to get hold of Mycroft's computer, get the system files, get _them _back to Jim then somehow get out of this himself. He put his hands in his pockets, his chin to his chest and began walking.

* * *

John woke with a start at the door latch opening. The cream coloured blanket fell from around his shoulder to his feet as he stood up. Sherlock was stood in the doorway. He looked pale, tired and...sick. John had never seen him look so bad. His dark brown curls were plastered to his forehead and his eyes were dull and just looked sick. But what was grabbing John's attention was the wound on the side of his neck. It was larger than it was at Jim's now and was oozing blood at a faster rate so it had turned into a steady stream and the red liquid had began to stain his white shirt. John stood there for a few moments, lost for words before darting to Sherlock's side and wrapped his arm around his waist to steady him. Sherlock tried to say something but his words were blurred together. John helped him onto the sofa and lay him down, before taking off his coat and scarf.

"John..." Sherlock's words were nothing above a whisper before he passed out.

"Sherlock?!" John shook his friend violently but he didn't stir. Panicking now, he ran out onto the landing.

"Molly! Greg! Mary! Help!"

The trio ran into the room not ten seconds later. John was kneeling down beside an unconscious Sherlock with his fingers on his wrist, counting the beats. Molly gasped and fell down beside John. Her hand over Sherlock's mouth; She grimaced and moved her hand to his forehead.

"His breathes shouldn't be that short and fast, touch his forehead, he's burning up. Greg, call 999. Get an ambulance."

John stared at her.

"Are you sure?"

"If this is what I think it is, then he needs to be in a hospital." She said seriously. "Something's not quite right."

Outside, Greg was telling the emergency crew the address and what was happening. He came back into the room a few minutes later.

"They're on their way." He glanced at Sherlock worriedly before turning back to John. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. I was asleep, he walked in, I woke up, got him to the sofa and he passed out. There's a wound on the side of his neck as well."

Suddenly three paramedics burst into the room and glanced around. Seeing the unconscious detective lain out limply on the sofa, they rushed over and started talking to Molly. They got him down to the ambulance and drove away.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Greg turned to John.

"Yes, please. I don't want him waking up in a strange place all alone."

"I'll come as well." Mary pulled on her coat and followed Greg and John down the stairs. Molly had decided to stay and explain what happened to Mrs. Hudson when she awoke.

Once at the hospital, John, Mary and Greg were ordered to wait in the waiting room until they were fully sure what they were dealing with. Within twenty minutes the doctor had crawled back into the room, looking extremely grave and almost disappointed.

"Well, he's awake. Do you want the news here or do you want to see him first?"

"What difference would it make?" John was curious.

"It's just you might not like what you hear..."

John's eyes narrowed at him and the doctor squeaked. He fumbled with the files in his hands.

"Well, the diagnosis is showing that your friend has relapsed, just a tad. We found traces of heroin, opium and cocaine in his system. A mix of all three could have proved fatal if you hadn't called when you did."

John's fisted slammed down onto the table in front him. The doctor squeaked again and scurried out.

"How could he?!" John roared. "He promised me. He promised that he wouldn't do any of this sort of thing again! HE ALMOST KILLED HIMSELF. _ AGAIN._"

"John, calm down." Mary tried to reason with him. "I'm sure Sherlock has his reasons." She knew she would never be able to justify what Sherlock has done. He'd betrayed John in the worst possible way. "Oh Sherlock..." She muttered under her breath.

Together she, John and Greg made their way to Sherlock's room by the directions of the receptionist. He was pale, sweating and panting. His eyes drifted to John, who was still seething with rage, then to Greg then his gaze lingered on Mary.

"Can...I...speak with...Mary alone?"

John was about to cut in and protest but Mary waved her hand.

"John."

John nodded, took a deep breath, and left the room with Greg and sat outside. Mary walked over to Sherlock and sat down beside him. She didn't say anything, only waited for him to say something.

"Are you alright?"

Mary just shrugged, glancing at her stomach.

"I guess."

"We need to tell him. We can't go on like this."

It was in Sherlock's plan to get _Mary_ to tell John about the baby's father and then he wouldn't have to go along with Jim's stupid plan. But Mary was shaking her head.

"We can't. We'd both lose him forever."

"So we're just going to let him raise a child and let him believe that it's his?"

"We're going to have to. Anyway, enough about that, how are you? You nearly killed yourself, Sherlock. John was going out of his mind with worry."

"I couldn't stop myself. I thought I'd measured all the doses perfectly but I obviously hadn't..."

He trailed off and could no longer look Mary in the eye. Tears began to well up in his eyes and he began to cry. This was a whole new experience to Mary; she's never seen Sherlock cry. She leaned forwards and wrapped her arms around him, avoiding the tubes and wires that were leading to him. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and looked at her through red eyes.

"Maybe its better that John doesn't know. I mean, this baby would have a drug addict and a p...psychopath as a dad. Not exactly, best parent in the world." Then he burst out in tears again.

_"High-functioning sociopath."_ Mary corrected with a sad smile. "Sherlock, you'd make a great dad." She smiled supporting him as best she could.

"That may be, but it looks like I won't be able to have a chance at being a father. I'm going to have to watch my best friend raise my baby daughter."

"You'll still see her, Sherlock! It's not as if you're never going to see her!"

"It's not going to be the same. She won't be running to me when her relationship fails, she won't ask me to help her with her school work. _It's not the same._"

Mary nudged herself forwards in her seat and held Sherlock's hand tightly.

"We'll find a way to sort this out, okay? Don't worry, you focus on getting better. I'll speak to John." She stroked his hair lightly. "You get some sleep."

Sherlock didn't have the strength to argue. He settled back down and closed his eyes. Mary stood up, smiled at him and walked back outside to meet John.

"He fell asleep." She smiled and linked her arm through John's and led him down the corridor, smiling.

_They'd find a way to fix this because that's what's families did._

* * *

**Hope y'all enjoyed that!**

**Feels.**

**R+R PEOPLE!**


End file.
